


Two Roads Diverged

by cienna



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Wilderness Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 20:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5599318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cienna/pseuds/cienna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A plane crash in an isolated area causes Dick to question his feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Roads Diverged

**Author's Note:**

  * For [matan4il](https://archiveofourown.org/users/matan4il/gifts).



> Sorry this is so late! I hope you enjoy it! :)

It seems like a routine mission at first. They’re flying above a remote area in Canada trying to locate a hidden criminal base when the plane goes down. It’s so sudden that Dick is barely aware of what’s going on. Just Bruce screaming at him to brace himself as the plane takes a sharp nosedive towards land. All he can think is that at least they’re going to die together. He resigns himself to that thought.

Except they don’t die – although when Dick wakes up he kind of wishes he had. He can feel something warm and sticky dripping into his eye and it doesn’t take long to realize that it’s blood. He prods his head gingerly and identifies a gash directly above his left eyebrow. It’s at least two inches long. Luckily he seems to be able to move his arms and legs without much of an issue but the pain from his head wound is intense. He’s going to need to find something to stop the bleeding.

Suddenly a sharp wave of panic sweeps through him. Bruce! Where is Bruce? He drags himself to his feet and the thought that Bruce might be dead, combined with the head wound is enough to make a wave of nausea wash over him and he gags sharply and stumbles, grabbing at a piece of the plane wreckage.

“Nightwing. Over here.” The relief that comes over him at the sound of Bruce’s voice is so intense he almost stumbles again. Dick looks around to locate the source of the voice and finally sees Bruce a few feet away. He is pinned under some of the wreckage. “I just can’t get a good grip on the fuselage from this position,” Bruce says.

Dick realizes rapidly that the reason Bruce can’t get a good grip is his right arm. It is bent at an odd angle, almost certainly broken. No wonder he can’t push the fuselage off himself. Leaning down makes Dick slightly dizzy and he knows it is from the blood loss but he has to get Bruce out. Getting a firm grip on the fuselage he attempts to move it but it isn’t budging. He pauses to wipe the blood from his face. 

“Look at me. You can do this.” Bruce meets his eyes and Dick can feel his resolve strengthening. Going in for another try he is able to move the fuselage slightly. Bruce pushes with his uninjured arm and together they manage to roll it off of Bruce. He helps Bruce get unsteadily to his feet. 

“Are you okay other than the arm?” Dick asks quickly. Who knows what other injuries are hiding under that suit of his. Bruce ignores his question of course.

“We have to get out of here. There’s fuel leaking,” Bruce says as he starts looking for the emergency supply kit that is usually located under the pilot seat. Parts of the plane are littered everywhere across a fairly large area but the cockpit section seems to be relatively intact. After a few minutes of searching Dick notices that the fuel smell is getting stronger. 

“I don’t see it,” he says, trying not to gag as waves of nausea wash over him. The dizziness from the blood loss combined with the strong smell of fuel is almost too much.

“Just a second more,” Bruce says from where he’s searching under a pile of rubble. “Got it!” he shouts triumphantly. Suddenly his uninjured arm is holding Dick’s and he is running, pulling Dick along with him. They are about 30 meters from the plane when the main section explodes, knocking them both down. It knocks the wind out of Dick although he can tell that Bruce is trying to protect him.

They lie there for a moment, waiting for the noise to die down. Bruce’s face is pale and Dick can tell he is in pain. 

“Your arm,” he says hesitantly.

“It’s fine,” Bruce manages to get out.

Dick can tell it is definitely not fine. In fact it looks even worse now, hanging at an unnatural angle.

“Come on,” Bruce says. “We have to get moving and find shelter. That head wound needs to be looked at.”

Dick doesn’t bother protesting. A wave of dizziness washes over him again as he sits up and manages to make it to his feet with Bruce’s help. He surveys the terrain. They appear to be in the middle of a dense forest. The only thing they have going for them at the moment is that it’s the middle of July so at least it’s not cold. One less thing to worry about on a long list of concerns.

He follows after Bruce, trying hard to keep up. He has to show Bruce that he can do this - that a minor head injury doesn’t keep him from doing his job. Finally Bruce spots a partially secluded area with a rock overhang and they stop to set up camp.

The items in the emergency kit are minimal. A firestarter, some thermal blankets, a few rations, some water sterilization tablets, a canteen and basic first aid gear. There is no radio, no communicator, nothing that will allow them to get in touch with Alfred and let him know where they are. Bruce seems to sense what he is thinking.

“There was a tracker in the plane. As long as we don’t move too far away from it, they should be able to find us. Hopefully before morning,” Bruce says. “Let me see your head.” Dick obediently turns his head and Bruce wipes away the blood gently and then bandages the laceration. “That wound really needs stitches, but bandages will have to do for now.” He tilts Dick’s head up by the chin, looking into his eyes. An indescribable feeling rushes through Dick’s body and has to fight the urge to pull away. Bruce frowns. “You may have a concussion.”

That would certainly explain the waves of dizziness and nausea that keep coming over him since the crash. “I’m okay,” Dick manages to get out, trying to put some distance between himself and Bruce. Whenever they are close lately he has been feeling unsettled, like there is a strange unresolved tension between them. “Let me see your arm. That needs to be set.”

“It’s fine,” Bruce tries to say again, but the incredulous look Dick gives him silences him in a hurry. Dick looks around their shelter area and manages to find a stick of about the right length. He takes Bruce’s arm carefully and straightens it against the stick, wrapping it with bandages so it stays in place. Bruce makes a slight noise when he straightens it but otherwise remains impassive. His face is paler than ever, however, and seems to be rapidly taking on a greyish color. 

“You need painkillers,” Dick says. Unfortunately they only have the over the counter ones from the emergency kit and Dick doubts they will even take the edge off.

“I said, I’m fine,” Bruce protests. “What we need is water. I’m going to go look for some.”

“After you take the painkillers,” Dick says pointedly.

“Only if you take some too,” Bruce says. 

Dick hesitates and then nods in agreement. It couldn’t hurt.

They both take the painkillers and then Bruce helps get him situated with the thermal blanket. It’s warm outside, but even in the summer heat Dick can’t seem to stop shaking. Bruce doesn’t say what both of them are thinking. His body is in shock from loss of blood.

Bruce looks at him intently. “Nightwing, I need you to stay awake.”

Dick doesn’t ask why – he’s definitely had more than a few concussions in his time as Nightwing and knows the procedure by now. He just nods. Unfortunately, staying awake is easier said than done. Bruce is gone for what seems like hours and Dick has to fight to keep his eyes open. Eventually he can’t resist any longer and finds himself descending into a semi-awake state.

He is standing in calm waters and the sun is low in the sky. Bruce is standing next to him and they are looking at the sunset, bodies close but not touching. A strange feeling of peace seems to come over Dick. He isn’t sure that he’s ever felt this way with Bruce before. It’s unexpected but he likes it - this is definitely a feeling he could get used to. Then Bruce touches his shoulder and turns Dick to face him. The feeling of peace that had been filling his body disappears in a flash and is replaced by something else, that feeling that Dick doesn’t want to name. He is shaking, his breath coming more rapidly as he meets Bruce’s eyes. There is the usual intensity there but there is something else too. Dick leans in a fraction and suddenly their lips are meeting. The kiss quickly turns desperate. Bruce holds his face roughly, like once he’s started he can’t bear to stop. Dick is burning everywhere they touch and he can’t stop shaking.

The shaking intensifies and he realizes that Bruce is actually shaking him, holding firmly to both of his shoulders. He must have fallen asleep. He fights back the feeling of disappointment in himself for having disobeyed Batman’s orders.

“Dick!” Bruce is shouting now, a hint of panic breaking through in his voice. Dick realizes that he still hasn’t replied and wonders how long Bruce has been shaking him like this.

“I’m okay.” Dick’s voice sounds rough, like it hasn’t been used in a while. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he adds, and cringes at how much he sounds like a child who has been chastised. 

Bruce doesn’t respond, but the panic on his face slowly dissipates. “Drink this,” Bruce says, and helps him drink the purified water from the canteen. The slight chlorine taste makes him gag and he chokes on it. Bruce is more patient than usual and waits for him to stop coughing before offering him the water again. This time his stomach rejects it and he can’t keep it down, retching onto the hard packed dirt of the campsite.

“Nightwing.” Bruce’s voice is calm. “Look at me.” 

Dick does and tries not to panic as images from the dream come rushing back. Hopefully the heat in his cheeks will just be attributed to his injuries.

“You’re in shock. You have to get some fluids down. Once Alfred finds us we’ll get you hooked up to an IV with some saline solution but for now you’re going to have to drink this.” Bruce points to the canteen. “Are you ready to try again?”

Dick nods and Bruce helps him drink. This time he fights his gag reflex and is able to keep the water down.

“That’s better,” Bruce says, sounding satisfied.

“How’s your arm?” Dick asks pointedly. “And please don’t say that it’s fine.”

“There’s nothing that can be done until it is properly set with a cast so there’s no point in discussing it.” Bruce is back to his usual his obstinance. It almost makes Dick smile despite the situation.

“Take some painkillers,” Dick says insistently. “The maximum dose.” Dick knows Bruce is trying to save the painkillers in case they don’t get rescued and Dick ends up needing them, but his face is looking more grey and pinched by the minute.

Bruce frowns. “I will.” 

“Now,” Dick insists. When Bruce doesn’t move he adds, “I’ll take some too.”

Bruce still doesn’t look happy, but he rummages in the emergency kit and pulls out the painkillers. He helps Dick take his and then takes some himself, washing them down with the treated water. Dick is pretty sure Bruce only takes one, but it’s better than nothing so he doesn’t call him on it.

Dick dozes off and on as Bruce makes a fire using the firestarter and then gets together some rations for them. He tries to eat a little bit but his stomach doesn’t seem to want to handle anything except water and finally Bruce gives up.

“You need to sleep now,” Bruce finally says. “I’ll wake you up in a few hours.”

“You need to sleep too,” Dick points out. He knows Bruce would never admit it, but the broken arm along with having to search for water and set up their camp by himself has definitely taken a toll on him. Dick thinks about when he was younger and how Bruce always seemed invincible. He can’t pinpoint the exact time that changed for him. Although those don’t seem to be the only changes in his feelings toward Bruce. Even with both of them injured, the tension between them is like a thread pulled too tightly, ready to snap at any moment. Just being around Bruce is enough to set him on edge.

Bruce doesn’t reply, just sits down next to him, his back against the rocky wall. He probably thinks arguing with Dick will take up too much of Dick’s energy. Dick closes his eyes and finds himself drifting off.

He wakes up to Bruce shaking him gently and realizes that he had been sleeping with his head on Bruce’s shoulder. He feels worse, light-headed and sick to his stomach, but thankfully his sleep had been dream-free.

“How many fingers?” Bruce asks him.

Dick tries to answer but finds himself slurring his words. That can’t be good. He can tell by Bruce’s expression that he doesn’t think so either. Bruce helps him drink some water from the canteen but he can only keep a little down before he is gagging again. “What time is it?” Dick tries to ask. It still seems to be dark out but time is all running together for him now.

“It’s a few hours before dawn,” Bruce replies.

Crap. Alfred definitely should have located them by now.

“I’m going to go back to the crash site to look for something that can help us communicate,” Bruce says, putting the extra blanket over Dick’s first one. 

“But the plane blew up,” Dick says, and cringes at his own slurred words.

“There might still be something that can help us,” Bruce says. “Just try to stay awake. There are wolves out tonight.”

Dick had heard them howling but he hadn’t paid much attention. “I will. Watch the arm,” he manages to get out.

Bruce nods reluctantly. He looks torn for a moment like he isn’t sure if he wants to go. Finally he moves the canteen so that it’s within Dick’s reach and disappears into the woods.

Time passes slowly. Dick struggles to stay awake but when his eyes are open the world around him seems to be spinning. He decides to close his eyes just for a few minutes until the spinning stops, but when he does all he can see is Bruce standing next to him in the water, the sunset leaving a warm glow on his face. It makes a fierce longing go through him that he tries to push aside. He needs to concentrate on staying awake. Not on his silly subconscious fantasies about Bruce.

Suddenly he hears a rustling near him and when he opens his eyes he can see the glowing golden eyes of wolves peering at him from the darkness of the trees. Bruce hadn’t been kidding about the wolves. Judging from the eyes there must be at least eight of them. He struggles to get to his feet and looks around for something he could use as a weapon. It’s been a while since he had to deal with wild animals, but he remembers that you shouldn’t run or turn your back to them. Unfortunately there isn’t much around their makeshift campsite that he could use as a weapon. He finally settles on one of the sticks that Bruce has collected for the fire.

He begins waving the stick around and shouting, hoping that will be enough to frighten them away. But he hadn’t counted on his current condition. It’s only moments before the world starts spinning again and the dizziness makes him stumble. All he can think as he falls is what an easy target he is going to be for the wolves.

***

It seems like only moments later when Dick wakes up but it must be longer than that because the sun is out and they are no longer in complete darkness. Bruce is cradling Dick with his good arm but his face is shaded and Dick can’t make out his expression.

“Don’t try to talk,” Bruce says. “Alfred will be here soon. He had some difficulty tracking the plane due to weather interference but he has our location now.”

“The wolves…” Dick manages to get out.

“I was coming up from behind them and saw them surrounding the camp. I was able to set off some unused flares I found in the wreckage and that frightened them away.” 

Bruce finally meets Dick’s eyes and even feeling the way he does the intensity between them still catches him off-guard. Dick has had enough. He surges up and kisses Bruce firmly. Bruce doesn’t respond immediately and Dick wonders if he’s made a mistake, if the whole chemistry thing between him was all in his head. But then Bruce kisses him back and it’s like he is pouring every single feeling he has held back into their kiss. Dick feels light-headed and can’t tell if it’s from the concussion or from the feeling of Bruce pressed up against him. Finally Bruce pulls away.

“We can’t do this,” he says.

“Why not?” Dick asks. He feels like he’s in a daze.

Bruce looks at him like he’s in idiot. “You’re concussed.”

Dick looks away, trying to find the courage to respond. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want this.” For a moment he is worried that Bruce will ignore this thing between them. That this is one of those moments that they will pretend never happened. He is surprised by how much he doesn’t want that, but then instead of looking away Bruce meets his eyes.

“We can discuss it. When you’ve recovered.” His voice sounds gruff but serious. Like this is something he’s actually considering.

Despite how horrible Dick feels he can’t stop the smile that comes across his face. Maybe this plane crash wasn’t such a disaster after all.


End file.
